


Tell All Her Secrets Because She Kept Just One

by writetheniteaway



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Capture, Pining, Post-Canon, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Radio Calls, Speculation, Torture, Unrequited Love, mcap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/pseuds/writetheniteaway
Summary: For the T100Fic for Black Lives Matter Prompt: Canon Speculative. Clarke gets put in the M-Cap and Bellamy sees her memories, especially the radio calls, and just feelings and end game and Bellamy stop being brainwashed.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 42
Kudos: 176
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProfoundlyInLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfoundlyInLove/gifts), [OnlyZouzou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyZouzou/gifts).



> Thank you Alex for giving me an excuse to write this, and thank you to Heather for her extremely helpful beta skills!

_ Don’t focus on the restraints. Don’t think about the last time you couldn’t move on a table. Don’t remember what it felt like when you were struggling to breathe, Russell Lightborne speaking softly above you, casually discussing your death. Don’t think about Sanctum at all. Madi’s in - Don’t.  _

_ Think about the ground. Think of plummeting to earth in the drop ship, the fresh, crisp and overwhelmingly new smell when Bellamy opened the Dropship door. Before it got complicated, before the wars and death.Go as far back as you can remember. Waste their time. You choose the memories. Before the ground, even. Before the hundred and two. Before Bellamy. The Ark. Nothing could hurt her on the Ark, not really. At least not anymore. _

“We knew nothing of the flame on the Ark,” Comes Bellamy’s voice, but not Bellamy. Bellamy wouldn’t stand and watch while a cult tortured her. Not with Octavia and Echo safe mere steps away, and even then, he would fight to save her. To save them all. He had no reason to let this happen. Why was he letting this happen? “Find Lexa.”

Levitt turns a dial, Clarke winces, trying to keep the wall built to bury her pain from crumbling beneath the needle of this machine. It’s a low blow, and both she and Bellamy know it.  _ Stop thinking of Bellamy. Don’t think of Lexa. _ Clarke focuses on the woods, the smell of the earth, the feeling of red berries pressed under her palms, raked through her long hair.  _ Wanheda.  _ These memories were jumbled, so much she had chosen to forget coming to the surface. _ The cold air, the damp ground she slept on, the loneliness that nearly consumed her. _ These were safe memories, nobody could be hurt by them but her.

She gasps out in pain again. “Show us the Commander,” Cadogen orders. “Force her if you must.” The Commander. There are so many. Doesn’t he know there is more than one? Clarke thinks she feels blood leaking from the corner of her eye.  _ Recite the lineage. Stop before it’s too late. Stop before- _

“She’s protecting something,” Levitt states.

“Show us the last Commander. Where is the flame?” Bellamy insists.

Clarke cannot think of the pain of this latest betrayal without putting Madi at risk. She needs a place to hide, to let out all of her feelings. Her vision whites out, and suddenly it occurs to her it was only a week ago she had died from having one too many people inside her head. And Bellamy had saved her. Bellamy had saved her so many times, even when he didn’t know.

_ “You’ll never guess what I found today. Apple trees! They’re not quite ready yet, but I’m going to try and dry as many as I can. I’m not sure if we’ll get Winter this year, but I’d rather be ready in case. Next batch of algae, just try and picture an apple instead. I’m sure pretending helps, I know it does for me.” _

Cadogen’s eyes flash to Bellamy’s, an idea formulating. “Stay with these,” He orders Levitt.

_ “It hasn’t stopped raining for ten days; I’ve been going house to house, trying to get anything useful off the ground before the mud ruins it. Can you see the weather patterns from up there?” _

Bellamy blinks at the projection in confusion, seeing visions through Clarke’s eyes, slipping in deep mud, pushing up from the ground, palms bloody from going down hard.

_ “Guess it would help if I actually turned the radio on if I’m going to ask you questions. I forget sometimes, that you might actually be listening and it’s not all in my head. Sorry for having no filter.”  _ Bellamy bristles at the scene portrayed, Clarke alone with the portable radio, miles from any of the tree lines he saw previously.

_ “I wasn’t supposed to survive it.” Clarke screams to the sky, hand gripping the call button so tight she’s shaking. “I wasn’t supposed to be here alone. Damn it Bellamy why did you leave me here alone?” _ That staggers him, and he looks at her face, not the projection of her memories for the first time. Clarke struggles against the machine, fighting tears from both the pain and the shame. The blood flowing from where the cap digs in is the least of her worries. Her breaking points, her desperation and loneliness are laid out for everyone to see, for Bellamy to see. Don’t let Bellamy see - 

“These aren’t the answers we need,” Bellamy says, careful to keep his voice even. Cadogen looks between the two of them. “She must face penance for lying,” He says grimly. “We need fighters like her in the war to come. I will not waste her talent,” He meets Levitt’s gaze and makes a motion with his hand. “But I will break her all the same.”

Clarke screams and it sends ice through Bellamy’s veins. It’s dark now. Clarke’s hair is short, like when Eligius came down. Bellamy can’t see but he imagines Madi is just out of the line of sight, and the effort Clarke is making to hold their focus on the stars is costing her dearly.

_ “I know we already talked this morning,” Clarke says into the radio. “But you were supposed to come down today. It’s been five years.” She quirks her mouth wryly, kicking at a rock near her foot. “You never got the hang of checking in on time I guess,” her voice turns melancholy.  _

“Please stop,” Clarke’s shredded voice pierces the memory. Levitt looks to Cadogen for direction, hoping he’ll at least be allowed to let her rest.

“The truth shall set you free,” Cadogen tells her smugly.

_ “I waited a long time to make this call. I wanted to tell you in person. But, now…I’m trying to have hope, Bellamy. But that’s what I had you for.”  _ Bellamy’s face darkens. He tries to meet Clarke’s gaze but she turns away as far as the machine will allow. He looks at Cadogen pleadingly. He knows Clarke never wanted him to know about these calls. Having them projected in front of him…this didn’t serve mankind. He could give her this last mercy.

“My Shepherd,”

“It must be done.”

“I understand Sir, please excuse me-“

“You will stay precisely where you are Mr. Blake.”

“Sir please,”

_ “What I have,” Clarke says into the radio, emphasizing the amendment. “What I have you for.” _

“There is nothing about the flame in these memories,” Bellamy implores. “Her mind is weak from Josephine’s invasion, if you push too hard on things that don’t matter, she won’t be able to tell you where it is.”

“You are enlightened my son, and understand that these feelings don’t matter.” Cadogen speaks to Bellamy, but keeps his gaze steady on Clarke. “She must learn the same.”

_ “But, but just in case I don’t get the chance to say it in person,”  _ Clarke’s screams turn to sobs. She could turn her head towards Madi, tempt Cadogen with answers to keep them out of this. But it’s too hard to fight now, she’s too tired to steer them.

_ “I love you, Bellamy.” _ He freezes, eyes wide in some sadistic mixture of horror and elation. It felt like seeing his Mom again. Like a dream he had never dared to hope, and now he had it but everything about it felt wrong. Not like this. Never like this.  _ “I should have told you sooner. I knew, I knew for so long and I had to hide it because I was afraid it would stop me from doing what I had to do, to keep our people safe. And it did. You said it was the right choice not to shoot you in the bunker, and it was. But it was for the wrong reason. It was because I was too weak, because I loved you too much to lose you. _ ” Clarke shatters chest heaving sobs wracking her body that mirror the frantic tears in the memory. The realization of losing him, then and now, drowning her beneath waves of agony long buried.  _ “But it’s good I never got the chance to tell you. You wouldn’t have left me behind. You’d never have left if you knew. And I couldn’t bear it if you…you did the right thing, leaving me. But if you come back, I hope I get to tell you. Please come back.” _

“I know this pain, Clarke,” Cadogen steps towards her. “I know that you feel that Bellamy has betrayed you. But he did not abandon you. He is committed to serving all mankind, as am I. Do not stand in the way of humanity for something as weak as one unrequited desire.” Clarke’s face burns with shame, years of carefully protecting herself, of protecting him undone by one nightmare of a machine. “Show me the key. Where is it?” Cadogen crowds her.

“Get out of my head!” Clarke shrieks. Cadogen remains eerily calm in the face of her anguish.

“You know Clarke, I’m beginning to realize that you two have never actually spoken about this before.” He grins as though he is a child amused with new toys. “I am happy to let you spend the time here reconciling. But you will show me everything I wish to know about the key, first.”

Clarke shakes her head, desperate to keep her mind anywhere else. Cadogen sighs. “Bellamy?”

Bellamy stands at attention, mind still reeling from all he’s just heard. 

“I am going to step out for a moment. If Clarke does not provide us with the location of the key by the time I return, I will ask you to take this,” Cadogen produces a knife and offers it to Bellamy. “And run the blade across your throat.”

Bellamy takes the blade, his hand trembling but his voice steady. “For all mankind.”

Cadogen rests his hand against Bellamy’s cheek, the intimate gesture reminding him of his vision of Aurora still fresh in his mind. “You are a good son.” Cadogen turns back to Clarke. “You can do as you always do, you can save him. Tell us, for the good of all mankind. I swear to you none of your friends will be harmed. Do not test the Shepherd's power,” He warns her darkly before exiting.

Bellamy unsheathes the blade and turns to her, holding it flush across his neck.

“Don’t!” She pleads with him. “Bellamy please-“

“Tell us where it is,” He says, somewhere between a demand and a request. “Just show him the key and this can all end.”

“You know I can’t do that,” She cries.

“You don’t understand Clarke, this is about more than just our people. It’s all people. The fate of the human race. Can you understand that?” Her face twists again, wrecked by the pain of resisting and the cruelty of her words from so long ago flung back at her so callously.

“Bellamy-” She’s sobbing again, out of the strength to hide it. “I don’t have what he wants, you know I don’t. Please, please stop.”

“Give them something, Clarke. Anything.” Levitt chooses his words carefully. “Even something you don’t recognize as helpful might be.”

Cadogen reenters, clearly displeased. “You’re so much like her,” He tells Clarke. “Stubborn enough to get everyone you love killed, because you just don’t want to see the truth.” He turns from her dismissively, and gives Bellamy a heavy stare. “For all mankind.”

Bellamy hesitates, hand trembling. “Do not disappoint us,” Cadogen says. Blood begins to appear on his neck, Clarke screams, all eyes turning back towards her.

“I’ll show you where it is,” She heaves. “Maybe you can recover the data from the flame.”

“Right now,” Cadogen demands. “Or this will not end.”

Clarke closes her eyes in defeat, recalls the image of the flame and a necklace lying in the dirt, covered over.

“Where?” Cadogen pushes.

“Sanctum.” Bellamy answers. “It’s the last place she saw her mother alive. That necklace belonged to her.”

“Thank you Bellamy.” Cadogen says, gesturing for Bellamy to lower the blade. “Deposit her back with her friends and then return to me. We must prepare for a journey.” He ignores Clarke’s completely, her usefulness running its course.

*

Even without Cadogen’s hospitality, they were still the best prison cells they’d ever had. Except maybe for Mt. Weather. At least that was the spin Miller was choosing to take on it, finding the positive, embracing the good moments like Jax had taught him to. There was a bed and blankets for each of them, and they were sleeping in shifts. Niylah, Hope, and Jordan were at least attempting to sleep, no guarantees any of them actually were but he gave them the courtesy of letting them pretend. Echo was leaning against the far wall, so still you might miss her if you didn’t know to look, which was either a strategy or a reflex he wasn’t entirely sure. Gabriel, Raven, and Octavia sat on the bedroll nearest to her, talking quietly. Which left him to pace by the door, ever on watch.

The door to the cell opens, Miller tenses, meeting Echo’s eye from across the room. Niylah jumps up to stand near him, Jordan and Hope stay close to the ground but alert. Clarke comes through the door, upright but barely, dried blood caked across her forehead and eyes red from crying. Shit. She looks at him for a moment, shakes her head and forces herself to keep walking. Gabriel and Octavia jump up to steady her, leaving Miller free to confront who comes through next.

Levitt appears, a peace offering of medical supplies in hand. Miller yanks them from his hands and passes them quickly to Niylah before pinning Levitt to the wall.

“Miller don’t!” Octavia says sharply.

“What did you do to her?” He growls.

“Let him go,” A second voice orders. Bellamy. “He did everything he could to make it easy, Clarke made it hard. He brought bandages to be kind. Let him go.”

Miller looks back to the group, Hope gives a nod, and Raven glares at Bellamy, rage in her eyes. Miller releases Levitt, taking no care to be gentle.

“Whoa, Clarke hey,” Gabriel steadies her from falling forward, guiding her to the closest pallet. Jordan moves to make space, trading places with Niylah who’s already begun unwinding bandages to tend to the marks on Clarke’s wrists, while Gabriel examines her head. Without thinking, Bellamy gravitates towards them and suddenly the whole room shifts like a spark’s gone off.

Hope and Echo take opposite ends where Clarke lies, Octavia corners Levitt, leaving Miller and Jordan to back Bellamy against the wall, as far away from Clarke as they can get him without shoving both he and Levitt back out the door. Raven launches herself at Bellamy and against his better judgment Miller let’s her pass.

“You did this to her!” Raven screams. “You sold her out, and you let them torture her.”

Bellamy stiffens. “The Shepherd needed to know.” He insists. “It didn’t have to hurt. She made it that way.”

“We didn’t know what was going on. All we knew was that you were dead and they had Echo and Octavia. She didn’t even take a  _ second _ to decide before putting herself at risk to find them.  _ For you.”  _ Miller pulls Raven back behind him, unwilling to take the chance if Bellamy decides to damn himself further and take a swing at her.

“So much for the hundred, huh?” He says darkly. Bellamy goes to reply but Miller cuts him off. “You hurt Clarke. You’re done here.”

Bellamy stares him down, hedges his bets and tries to move towards Clarke again. Miller, Raven, and Jordan close rank, shoving him back hard.

“Just get out of here,” Octavia demands, fixing Bellamy with an icy glare. “Both of you.”

Clarke hears the commotion, makes an effort to raise her head but Gabriel forces her to lie still. “Between Josie and whatever the hell this thing is, the fact that you are not a vegetable right now is nothing short of a miracle.” He says it softly not to antagonize the room. “So let’s try and keep it that way, alright?”

Clarke sinks back down, letting her eyes close.

“You need to trust me, I know what I saw-“ Bellamy tries to argue with them as Miller drags him toward the door.

“Go float yourself,” Raven hisses at him.

He fights hard to stay, and it takes Miller, Jordan, and Raven to finally get him against the door. Bellamy raves about the Shepherd's teachings, but his actions are entirely focused on reaching Clarke. Miller and Raven are shouting him down, and the cacophony is enough to make Clarke curl into herself in pain.

Echo moves from her spot to wrench open the door, unable to even look at the man she fought so hard to find.

“Bellamy?” Clarke’s voice is weak, but she cuts through the chaos all the same. Miller and company don’t let up on their efforts to drag him towards the door, and he acquiesces, trading his advantage to snap his gaze toward her. Clarke takes in the scene in front of her and her heart starts to break all over again. Her lip trembles and she can feel fresh tears threatening, but she forces them back long enough to say “I forgive you.”

A rush of guilt lands heavy; his family doesn’t trust him, he can’t bring them into the fold, he’s trying to protect them and instead...He’s hurt her. Clarke. He thinks back on all he heard, everything he was never supposed to hear. Everything she wanted to hide from him, for who knows how long or why. But she forgives him. She always forgives him. The overwhelming weight of that realization goes to war with his new found faith, threatening to tear him apart in the process. He doesn’t fight Miller this time, and instead flees.

Levitt takes Octavia by the hand, “I need to talk to you.” Miller gives her a look that says “your call,” so Octavia let’s Levitt pull her into the hall. He hasn’t strictly broken a rule, she’s still in a confined area, but away from the chaos of her unpredictable friends on the other side.

“The Shepherd punished her,” Levitt tells Octavia quickly. “They were memories, from Earth. But she was always alone-“

“Primfaya,” Octavia confirms.

Levitt spares a glance through the small window at Echo, still shaken from their last encounter, but swallows his fears to tell Octavia lowly. “She loves him. Or did once. And the Shepherd made him stay. Made Bellamy see all of it.”

“Bellamy you idiot,” Octavia sighs.

“But he brought her back, you showed me the night she died.” Levitt insists.

“Would you see it that way after what just happened?”

“I don’t understand any of you.” He says sincerely. “But it was too cruel a punishment for her crime.”

“Tell all her secrets because she kept just one,” Octavia says dryly. “He certainly has a flare for the dramatic.”

“I want to help you,” Levitt says quickly. “I know trusting me is…a lot to ask. But your family. It’s been broken and mended a dozen different ways and you always come back to each other. I want to be part of something like that.”

“I left you to die in a genocide.” Octavia says wryly.

“That seems to be how your people say ‘I love you.’” He replies.

Octavia smiles at that, and brushes her hand against his cheek. “Keep yourself safe,” She asks.

“They’re preparing to leave for Sanctum. I don’t know who or how many, but they’re looking for the key.”

“It’s destroyed.”

“But it was enough of a distraction to keep Bellamy alive. The Shep-Cadogen is desperate and its making him foolish.”

Octavia nods, swallowing her panic at that remark. “Give me a bit of time, and then try and come back if you can.”

*

“And here I thought Clarke Griffin could never break,” Raven says bitterly. They’d all moved to the far corner, leaving Clarke to sleep off her pain.

“She didn’t,” Gabriel corrects. “It’s amazing what her mind has endured in the last week alone.” He picks at their meager rations. “I wouldn’t want to test that theory with another round in that thing though.”

“Let me go next,” Jordan says.

“Don’t be a hero,” Echo reproaches him. “Your mother wouldn’t want that for you.” The reference to Harper is unexpected coming from her, at least to everyone but him.

“It won’t hurt me. There’s nothing I know that can help them, most of my life was just me and my parents.” He squares himself, making a decision. “And while we’re on the subject of what my mother would want, I think she’d be pretty disappointed that it took her friend all of a couple of months to slide full-tilt back into genocide as a way to deal with heartbreak.”

“At least Echo tried to do something instead of rolling over and playing dead.” Hope says, venom in her voice, her meaning plain when she looks over at Clarke’s crumpled form.

Miller steps in before it can escalate further. “That’s enough.” He shoots Jordan and Hope a warning look. “We’re all tired and we’re all pissed. But what we are not going to do,“ He says firmly, sounding very much like a parent. “Is get distracted fighting with each other when Clarke and Bellamy need us. Got it?” Jordan and Hope at least have the decency to look sheepish, but the rest just pointedly avoid eye contact with each other. “You stay up on watch with me,” Miller orders Jordan. “The rest of you get some sleep while we can.”

Octavia breaks away from the group and heads over to check on Clarke. She’s at a loss for what to say; she’d always assumed there was something going on between her and Bellamy, but everything had been such a mess for so long, she assumed they’d buried whatever it was. Especially when he came back from space with Echo. Not that she was in any position to be judging how people handled Primfaya, but she could certainly judge him for being so blind. And after what happened with Josephine, well honestly Octavia wasn’t sure how he hadn’t told Echo it was over right then and there.

“You need anything?” Octavia asked softly. Clarke was curled tight into herself, but her eyes were wide, staring into the distance, her back to Octavia. Following an instinct, she pulls a blanket from the next bed and drapes it over her gently; giving Clarke every chance to feign sleep.

“I’ll be fine,” Clarke answers softly. “I just need to sleep.” She means to be reassuring, but instead just sounds pitiful. Octavia sits on the ground behind her, knees pulled up and back to the wall, sitting vigil.

“He loves you too,” She says quietly, minutes later when she believes Clarke is already asleep. Clarke bites her lip hard, determined not to cry again. Octavia places a hand on her shoulder, a silent assurance that she isn’t alone. “If anyone can fix this, it’s you two.”

*

They had one shot to get to the bridge before Cadogen left for Sanctum. The plan was quick, dirty, and extremely dangerous, but it was the only one they had.

“Levitt will set off the alarm for an oxygen breach. That will clear the halls, but not for very long. Echo, Hope, Gabriel and Octavia will make the move for Bellamy. The rest of us move to take back the stone room. We’ll wait as long as we can.” Miller ran through the plan solemnly, Clarke standing to his side, steady, but benched by unanimous insistence. They all said nothing when she hadn’t protested, taking it as a sign things were worse than they knew.

And they were.

“We have a window when Levitt will try for it, we just have to be ready to move.” Octavia adds.

“Don’t get separated, and don’t fall behind.” Echo says.

“Your boyfriend couldn’t get us anything better to fight with than a couple of knives?” Niylah asks wryly.

“Are you still a grounder or not?” Raven quips.

The alarm sounds.

*

For some reason she couldn’t understand, Miller had formed them in a square around her. Miller on point, Niylah at the rear, flanked by Raven and Jordan. She didn’t need a protection detail. There was nothing left to take.

The lights in the hall cut out, followed by a crash. Clarke takes half a second too long to drop to the ground and the echo of the blast makes her head feel as though it might be the next thing to explode. Someone trips over her and she vaguely hears Miller shouting her name but before she can reply there’s a hand over her mouth and she’s being dragged into an alcove.

“Don’t scream, please.”

_ Bellamy _ .

Clarke tries to land an elbow into his kidney and unwind from his grasp but she’s dizzy from the pain in her head and can’t get the force behind it, and she winds up nearly falling to the ground instead.

“Stop,” He pleads with her, shifting to take most of her weight. “You’ll make your head worse.”

“Let go-“ Her voice is low and hoarse, but he claps his hand over her mouth again anyway.

“Their orders are to shoot you on sight,” He says harshly.

Clarke looks at him, a vicious stare asking why exactly he would care about such a thing, which he takes as a suitable understanding that she won’t scream when he removes his hand from her mouth.

“You’re bleeding again,” Bellamy says with a tenderness that makes her want to vomit. He reaches to graze his hand against her forehead but she smacks him away.

“Why do you care?” She hisses. It’s a petty, childish question but the only thing she can think to say.

“We can’t do this now,” He insists. “Just let me help.”

“Your help nearly got us all killed.”

“I can fix this.”

“How?” She asks incredulously.

“You said you forgave me.” He says, broken. “Was it a lie?”

That startles her, but before she can process there are hard footfalls in the hall. He puts a finger to his lips and fixes her with a pleading stare to just stay. He steps out of the alcove, leaving Clarke to lean against the wall. Even if she thought she could make it past the guards, she was in no condition to try and run.

“They scattered. Clarke ran for the Shepherd’s quarters, probably trying for an assassination attempt. That would be her play. Get everyone you can there and secure the perimeter.”

“What are you doing?” She asks when he turns back to her.

“I don’t know,” He says honestly. “I just-“ He grimaces, fighting to keep his composure. “I’m so sorry. For all of it.” Clarke’s vision blurs and she reaches for him by instinct. He catches her before she can fall, eases her gently to sit on the ground.

“We can’t stay here,” She insists.

“Just take a second,” He says, scanning the hall, mind spinning for a way out. “Here-“ He pulls a pair of restraints from his pocket. Clarke lunges forward, desperate to keep him from entrapping her.

“Stop, Clarke, listen to me.” He’s not used to explaining to her. He’s used to her knowing his decision before he’s even fully thought it himself, and being halfway through the plan of how to execute it. But he has no one to blame but himself for how out of sync they are now. Just one more thing he’ll hate himself for until the day something finally puts him in the ground.

“I can get you to the stone room, but no one is going to let me just walk by if it looks like I’m helping you.” She stares at him, searching his face with such intensity he feels like she can see the guilt written in blood across his soul. She probably can. It’s Clarke after all.

“Please let me do this,” He begs. “Let me try and make at least some of this right.”

Her head says to use her last bit of strength to angle her elbow into his throat.

Her heart holds her wrists out to him, steels itself against what she knows very well may be the break that finally shatters her, and says “okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written for [ZouZou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyZouzou/pseuds/OnlyZouzou) as part of the T100ficforBLM initiative. More info can be found in the notes below. Thank you to [queentheaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queentheea) for beta-ing!

Clarke tries to scan ahead of her despite the double vision; instincts flaring at the feelings of bonds on her wrist, being held captive by someone she’s still not sure she can trust. 

Bellamy abruptly yanks her back from turning a corner, a heavy grip on her upper arm that spins her and sets fresh pain coursing through her head so that her vision whites out. Or perhaps it’s the glean of his ridiculous robes, obscuring her vision as he towers over her, caging her against the wall. 

She winces in pain, biting her lip hard to muffle the sound. His hand moves down her arm and back up almost rhythmically, and whether he realizes consciously that he’s made an effort at soothing her, it’s been done all the same and it takes all of Clarke’s strength not to simply melt into his embrace and let her eyes all shut, come what may. 

“Can you still walk?” He asks her, words coming low and fast against her ear. 

She nods slowly, knowing her voice would betray her lack of confidence on the subject. He repositions his hand on her arm and across her back, to an observer keeping her from running off, but in reality keeping her upright. Clarke compartmentalizes, refusing to consider what it all means that he’s suddenly seeming to be back on her side, remembering all too sharply the anguish of false hope when Simone had impersonated her mother, could it have been only last week? 

The motion of shifting time and shifting loyalties is too much to process in this moment, she has to focus. Focus on making sure they’re walking in the right direction. On staying quiet. On staying upright. 

A disciple materializes, seemingly from nothing thanks to their advanced technology, brandishing a handgun and taking aim at Clarke. Bellamy shoves her forward, hard, creating space between her and the disciple, causing a shot to miss wide. She struggles to right herself with her hands bound, barely keeping herself from crashing to the floor by steadying herself on the wall.

Bellamy and the disciple are caught in a struggle, Bellamy pinned beneath the disciple who has their arm pressed against Bellamy’s throat, the gun lost to him out of reach. Clarke tries to reach for it but loses her footing, unable to keep steady. She forces herself to fall toward the fray, holding the heavy shackles out away from her torso, allowing gravity to do the brunt of the work and swing her wrists downward, dragging her body after them.

The disciple falls to the side, roaring in pain at the feeling of metal on flesh, and the sound of it makes Clarke feel as though she were the one who had been hit in the head with a blunt object. To make matters worse she hadn’t accounted for how to break her fall and lands face first on the metal floor.

Or she would have, had Bellamy not rolled his shoulder beneath her to break the fall, catching her so that she was awkwardly cradled against his chest while his back took the brunt of the impact beneath them. 

For one nanosecond of absolute insanity Clarke relishes the feeling of her body pressed against his, and in the next moment shrieks as the disciple, wounded and angry, not incapacitated as she had hoped, drags her up by her hair. 

“Let her go,” Bellamy says, and it shocks Clarke to hear it sound closer to a demand than a plea. “I saved your life, you owe me.”

“I saved yours just as well didn’t I? Brother?” Doucette asks, keeping his grip tight on her. “I showed you how to walk the steps that our Shepherd walked, brought you into the fold on the journey towards transcendence.” Clarke realizes suddenly that the man holding her captive is the same that returned from Etherea with Bellamy. 

“She doesn’t have the key. Or any memory of the code within it. There’s nothing else she can do for the cause.” 

“Your faith is being tested,” Doucette insists. “You told me that everyone you loved, Octavia, Echo, and Clarke, were somewhere beyond your grasp.”

Clarke’s sharp inhale of breath betrays her, encouraging Doucette to press his advantage. 

“We’ve talked through this exact moment, where you would need to stop being selfish and put your love for each of them aside. Our Shepherd left his wife on Earth for the good of his people, to find transcendence. His children. He was not selfish. He did not risk exposing the human race to deadly radiation for the sake of one person. He was better than that. He wants you, Bellamy, to be better than that. Better than the weak man that you used to be. Transcend, brother. Do as your Shepherd commands.” 

Doucette glances at the ground, then kicks the gun so that it slides to land at Bellamy’s feet. 

“What were our orders, Disciple Blake?” 

Bellamy’s head snaps up at the title, any sense of indecision gone, his expression set as he picks up the gun, resolved. 

“Bellamy,” Clarke says, voice and heart breaking. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I do. Isn’t that what Monty said? That we need to do better?” 

“Not like this,” Clarke sobs. 

“Do it,” Doucette says harshly. 

Bellamy raises the gun, arm straight, finger resting smoothly on the trigger. 

“This is how we do better.”

Clarke tenses, willing his aim to be true. If she’s about to die at his hand no less, the least she can hope for in this universe is not to suffer.

Clarke cowers in pain at the noise of the shot, but no searing anguish tears at her flesh. She looks at Bellamy, sees him rushing toward her, but he doesn’t meet her eye, instead falls to his knees beside Doucette, blood blooming across his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy sobs, pressing his hand against the wound, a futile attempt to slow the gushing blood. 

“Please,” he looks at Clarke desperately. She shakes her head softly, remembering suddenly the scared boy who couldn’t take a life even as an act of mercy. How far they’d fallen. How broken he now was. 

“Someone will have heard the shot,” she takes a deep breath. “If you’re coming with me, we have to go.”

“He’s my friend,” Bellamy chokes. “And I-” 

Clarke can feel her own heart breaking for him; and against her better instinct to run she kneels beside Bellamy, placing her still bound hands over his applying pressure against Doucette’s chest.

“I’m Clarke,” she whispers. ‘Thank you. For bringing him back to me.” Doucette brings his hand to brush against Bellamy’s, but the last face he sees is Clarke’s, a ghost of understanding dying with the light in his eyes. 

She feels Bellamy shatter beside her, but every second they linger threatens to damn them. 

“Come on,” she says, moving to stand. “ _Bellamy_.” 

Something in her tone calls him back from the brink, and he brushes his sleeve across his face to wipe his tears. 

“No point in hiding now,” he says, reaching to undo the shackles on Clarke’s wrists. Clarke looks at him pitifully, wishing she could embrace him but time won’t allow it, and she settles for clasping her hand around his wrist. 

More shots fire from the end of the hall, a cluster of disciples closing in. Bellamy takes off at a sprint in the opposite direction, dragging Clarke with him, using the chance at turning a corner to propel her in front of him. 

“Straight ahead,” he tells her, voice low but intent. “Don’t stop no matter what.” 

“I’m not leaving you behind,” she insists, tossing one brief furious glance back at him that he would even suggest such a thing. 

A second alarm sounds with renewed fervor, a vicious high pitched tone that sounds eerily close to a reaper stick. Clarke doubles over in pain, vision blurring and but she feels Bellamy’s hand take hold of hers.

“Keep moving,” he encourages her. “We’re almost there.” 

Clarke hears Miller and Octavia shouting strategy to each other in the distance. That either means they’d given up trying to find Bellamy, or Octavia had been split from her team. Smoke fills the hall as they near the door to the stone room, obscuring her vision even more and she’s sure Bellamy’s too. 

Someone grabs at the hand not laced with Bellamy’s and yanks her backward. Clarke tries to scream but the smoke chokes her, and the weight of a body presses her to the ground, kneeling on top of her and pinning her there. She struggles to get herself up, but the pressure on her chest and the pounding in her head are too much, and she slips into darkness, hearing her name shouted in the distance, or perhaps whispered nearby, she can’t quite tell anymore.

*

Bellamy feels Clarke hand slip from his and promptly has his legs cut out from under him. He rolls away from the weight that tripped him, unable to see well through the smoke, but he can hear Octavia a few yards in front of him, calling for Clarke. 

“She’s here,” he bellows out of the still screeching alarm. “She was behind me.” 

Rough hands drag him up by the collar. Miller, he’s almost sure. 

“Help me get Clarke,” Bellamy says quickly. He’ll apologize later. Now, they need to get out of here. Miller must agree to that silent consensus because they both turn, Miller shoving the butt of his gun into the face of the disciple on top of Clarke. 

Bellamy reaches for Clarke, his stomach dropping when she doesn’t respond. 

“Clarke,” he shakes her as gently as he can, but there isn’t time to let her wake gradually. She stirs, but makes no effort to get herself moving. 

“We’ve gotta go,” Bellamy insists. “Come on.” Her head tilts oddly as she drifts back out of consciousness. Miller reacts, crouching on the other side of her and meeting Bellamy’s eye.The two of them lift her to standing, by default of carrying a weapon Miller takes point, and Bellamy swings his arm under her knees to carry her the last stretch towards the stone room. 

Hope slams the door closed behind them, dulling the sound of the alarm in the hall. 

“Let’s move,” Raven says, poised to set the stone. 

“We’ve got a problem,” Gabriel says. “Too many bodies and not enough helmets.” 

“How big of a problem are we talking?” Miller asks. 

“We’ll lose our memories,” Octavia explains. “We’re not sure why, but it will happen.”

“How far back? For how long?” Niylah asks. 

“I’m not sure how it all works, Octavia’s memory came back fairly quickly but she was only gone for a minute or so by Sanctum’s clocks.” Gabriel says. 

“We’re short one helmet,” Echo says efficiently. “There’s bodies all over the hall, let's just grab one more.”

Bellamy does the quick mental math. No one in this room is an enemy to him, or to the cause. For Godssake most of them are family, or close to it. And they’re in this mess because of him. Guilt and shame roll through his stomach in heavy waves but he forces himself to breathe through them. 

“Open the portal Raven,” he says sharply. It clearly takes them by surprise that he’s giving orders. 

“Do it now,” he insists, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“You’re the one who knows what their plans are,” Gabriel says, and hell if that doesn’t stall him. 

“The Shepherd wants the flame. He’ll come for it. We have to get it first and destroy it. Beyond repair. He can’t start the war without the code, and he can’t get the code without it. That’s all there is to it.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Raven says.

“Neither does he,” Octavia says quickly. “Unless you told him about-” Octavia turns on her heel to glare at Bellamy, frozen where he stands, Clarke still unconscious in his arms. 

“No. It’s why she had to-” he falters. Octavia puts his statement together with her information from Levitt. 

“Open the portal, Raven,” Octavia says. “Miller cover the door, Niylah, Echo help me get Clarke.” 

“You can’t be serious,” Echo says, realizing the decision’s been made. 

“Cadogan stole memories he had no right to, things that weren’t even about the flame. This way,” Octavia says, gesturing towards Bellamy, “this way takes some of that hurt away.” 

Bellamy swallows thickly, realizing what Octavia means. That she knows that he knows. Things he was never meant to find out; least of all the way he had. That Clarke had loved him. As much as he had loved her. 

As much as he may still. 

That knowledge is what tore him from Cadogan’s teachings, he’s sure of it. _Love is weakness,_ of course that’s what the grounders know, this man gave birth to their creator. Love is what planted doubt in his mind as she wept in M-CAP. It’s what gave her the strength to forgive him, he knows that for a fact even if she hasn’t said it. 

It’s what made him a murderer, again. Because he could not bear the thought of losing her. Would he have done the same for Echo? For Octavia? 

A crash against the door spurs him from indecision to action. Clarke stirs in his arms and he takes the chance to set her right on her feet. Echo rushes forward, dipping her shoulder to support Clarke on one side, helmet already secured in place. Bellamy hears the whir of the stone as the portal opens, pulls his gaze from Clarke to make sure the rest of them are ready to move. He holds Clarke steady on the other side, Niylah taking decisive action to place the helmet on Clarke without leaving room for explanation or discussion; a steady presence in the face of chaos Bellamy has a sudden surge of gratitude for. One he's not sure he'll remember, a few moments from now. 

Another crash comes to the door, then a blast and Bellamy feels himself falling forward.

* 

Octavia sees the moment the door gives way, barks out orders for them to move. They need to stay together, the anomaly is still so much a mystery and even a second a part could separate them by weeks, instead of months. 

Bellamy stumbles, and Octavia realizes nearly too late he won’t make it back up on his own. He looks at her, sees her hesitation, and she hears his scream insisting she turn and go. 

Like hell.

Gabriel reaches forward to pull her through the portal but Octavia ducks low, making her way to drag Bellamy up to his feet, shoving him in front of her and through the portal. She holds tight to his bloodstained sleeve, tries her best to keep him steady as she watches the understanding fade from his face. 

She’s not sure how much he will lose, or for how long, but she can only hope that it’s enough. Enough to fix whatever’s broken between him and Clarke. Enough for him to come back to them as the big brother she missed so dearly on Skyring. The one who needs to see how far she’s come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written as a prompt for The 100 Fic for BLM. More information on the initiative and how to prompt can be found [HERE](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)
> 
> The third and final chapter will be post in late March or early April, unless a prompt comes through to move it higher in my to-do list =)

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited for this to have been my first prompt fill for T100 Fics for Black Lives Matter. I am on tumblr at writetheniteaway with a massive list of plot bunnies and ideas, so if you see something you'd like, or if after tonight you're heartbroken and need someone to fix it, come send an ask there! Check out Bellarkefic-for-blm for updates on our goals!


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